Tsunami
by the'nvisiblegirl
Summary: Kommissar corners Beca in one of the backstage dressing rooms the night before Worlds, and, once again, the brunette is reduced to a babbling, gay mess.
1. Chapter 1

"Well, sucks for you, 'cause I really wanna kiss you right now," Beca blurted out before she could stop herself, and, immediately, clasped a hand over her mouth in shock. Compliment-insulting Kommissar, who was standing only a few inches away from here at the moment, was one (extremely embarrassing) thing, but actually voicing her desire for the other woman was a whole other level of absolutely _not_ okay.

She still wasn't completely sure why the blonde had such an effect on her in the first place (other than the fact that—obviously—she was more than the one she had thought she was on the Kinsey scale), but she _was_ sure of the fact that this had to stop before it could escalate, because sleeping with the competition was maybe not the smartest thing to do.

Luckily, there was no one else around to hear their exchange, since Kommissar (what kind of name was that, anyway?) had managed to corner her in one of the dressing rooms in the backstage area. Worlds weren't until tomorrow, but they'd all had to sound check already, and—of course—she'd stood in the wings while Das Sound Machine sang, because her crush was getting a little out of hand, and, also, she was apparently kind of a masochist from time to time.

"Really, now? All you had to do was ask, little Maus," the taller woman all but purred, seemingly moving even closer. Her gaze was intense, predatory, and—unfortunately, Beca thought—also really fucking arousing.

To be quite honest, the brunette hadn't been this turned on in months, because, as she had recently realized, Jesse was more like a brother to her than an actual love interest (and they hadn't had sex in a while, anyway). But she wouldn't let Kommissar know that, of course.

"Whatever," Beca muttered, chin raised in defiance, although she bloody well knew that, when it came down to it, she would probably even beg for it. God, this was really embarrassing, and fifty shades of inappropriate, and just totally not cool, because the German definitely knew that Beca was undeniably attracted to her (and totally used that to her advantage).

Kommissar chuckled.

"Oh, we are being feisty again tonight. I like it."

The smile on her face was somewhere between amused and downright mocking, and Beca sighed, because this just wasn't fair. Seriously. One single person shouldn't be this physically flawless, smart, and witty (and the list went on, actually).

"You are exhausting. And incredibly handsome." _Really?_ She felt like giving herself a good, hard kick in the face; normally, she was quite well put together (okay, actually, that was a complete lie, because she was a babbling idiot about ninety-nine percent of the time, but still). "Jesus Christ, what is _wrong_ with me?"

Another throaty chuckle.

"I believe it's called 'sexual confusion,'" Kommissar deadpanned, and the Bella wasn't sure if she wanted to punch or kiss the teasing smirk of the taller one's face. Never in her life had she met a person who knew how to push her buttons quite this well (and look so damn attractive doing it, no less).

She crossed her arms in front of her chest to regain at least some of her composure.

"I'm not sexually confused."

"So you _know_ you want me now? Interesting," the German chuckled, all confidence and power, because she was sure she had the upper hand in this (and she actually had, Beca hated to admit).

"I—that's not—I didn't say that."

She was back to stuttering and insecurity again, and she hated herself for it, because how could another person have this effect on her? This woman who she'd seen twice in her life somehow managed to completely get under her skin, into her head, and everywhere else, really.

Although she didn't want to admit it (not even to herself), she had thought about the blonde more than she should—and also not in ways that were justified by her being "the enemy"—considering that she technically still had a boyfriend (because it was just easier to keep him around than breaking up with him), that the girl she was kind of crushing on was the devil incarnated, and, also, generally one big mystery to the Bella.

Maybe she had a dominance kink, Beca thought, because she'd also had that thing for one of her super strict professors a while back, but that had come and passed, so this might as well just be over soon. But then she actually looked at the blonde again, and was pretty sure that, no, it wouldn't be. Because Kommissar was so damn attractive, it should be illegal, she was a challenge—and Beca had always been one to stand her ground—and there was probably so much more beneath that icy demeanour worth exploring.

"You didn't have to," the German said then, successfully distracting Beca from her own thoughts.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

The blonde's mouth turned up into a poised smile.

"You've been staring at my lips for most of this conversation. You've—what do you Americans call it?—'checked me out' all night, and I still remember you being all flustered when we first met at that car show."

At this point, Kommissar was close enough for Beca to feel the older woman's breath on her face, which—of course—smelled like oranges and fucking unicorn farts, or something.

"What are you afraid of, little Maus?" the blonde asked, and it sounded almost gentle; sincere.

"I—" Beca started, but was interrupted by Kommissar, who suddenly lunged forward, and, without warning, gripped the Bella's face to crash their lips together. For a second, she was too surprised to even react, too shocked to reciprocate or move away (she wasn't sure which of those two things she should do, anyway).

The German, however, didn't seem at all deterred by that, because, instead of stopping, she ran her tongue over Beca's bottom lip, and the smaller woman automatically opened her mouth. Kommissar took this as an invitation, because, suddenly, she was inside, one of her hands settled on the brunette's ass, and her knee sneaked between the Bella's thighs.

Beca couldn't help a breathy moan escaping her lips, which was completely embarrassing, but, right now, she was way past the point of caring, because this was actually happening; she was making out with her—extremely hot—nemesis, and it was even better than in her numerous daydreams. The taller woman was all tongue, and teeth, and dominance, and Beca was certain that this had to be the best kiss she'd ever gotten.

One of her hands found its way to Kommissar's neck to pull the other woman even closer, and the other one was sneaking underneath a black tank top to run over those amazing abs the brunette had admired during the riff off. She could feel the muscles twitch as the other woman moved against her in an attempt to find a mutual rhythm.

But then kiss was over—way too soon for Beca's liking—and Kommissar pulled away again.

"Sleep tight, Liebling." She pecked the Bella on the lips once more, before she completely let go of the smaller woman, and headed toward the door. "And if you can't, I'm in 302," the blonde added over her shoulder without turning around.

And then she was gone, Beca standing and staring, unable to process what had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

There is now a third part to this story, which can be found here: s/11353441/2/Metamorphosis-Tsunami-II


End file.
